


Chemise

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Phasma buys some intimate clothing.





	

Phasma has never really felt like one of ‘the girls’, not in the way they seem to self-police themselves. Yes, she’s female. Yes, she’s a fighter. No, being one doesn’t mean not-being the other, but she’s… it’s just complicated.

Effusive head-dresses, heels that could serve as torture devices, fifteen million kinds of face-paint and different classifications of handbags and purses… she _likes_ these things, but not enough to feel comfortable around them. She always feels like a bit of a sham when she admires a beautiful gown, and not knowing the terminology behind some accessories means she feels she shouldn’t own them. 

But she looks longingly through the windows, imagining herself with pearls around her neck, or a simple purse under her arm. She wonders if she’d look ridiculous wearing them, and she’s too afraid to try.

Kylo doesn’t seem to object to how she presents herself, but then… he wears layers and layers of armour (emotional, if not weapon-repellent) all day long, too. He’s possibly not the best person to ask about this, and the longing doesn’t go away.

When they have been dating for some months, she decides to try it. Just something small, to see if he’d like it. 

It’s… okay, it’s not _entirely_ for him, it’s also because she wants to feel special, and feminine, and she wants to know what she’d look like in something ‘girly’. But it would help if he appreciated it, too. He’s never once made her feel undesirable, anything but. She’d been long resigned to being married to her career before him, but now…

She steals some time planet-side, rushing into a shop and hoping no one looks at her as she self-consciously looks at all the options, her mouth dry at the more delicate and intricate options. She isn’t brave enough for those (she’d look like she was a slab of meat dressed in bows) and she finds something silky, sheer, and form-fitting instead. Halfway between sexy and practical, and she pays in a hurry and hides her purchase against her flank all the way ‘home’.

It’s three days before she puts it on, and that’s when he’s not around. A neat triangle of black across her front and rear, and a little chemise that clings to her breasts and sides. She manages five minutes before she panics and takes it all off.

***

It’s a week before she plucks up the courage to do it for real. She’s in her off-duty slacks and shirt, with the lingerie underneath. They eat together, and end up on the couch, necking and cuddling. His hands stroke below her shirt, but he doesn’t pass comment at the softer fabric below, and she feels her heart stopping.

He doesn’t… like it, does he? He… it was a mistake…

She ducks her head as he pulls her loose t-shirt off, and bites her lip in concern. He can see, now. Can see how ridiculous she’s being, and when their eyes meet…

“You look beautiful without it,” Kylo tells her, and his hand goes to cup her breast, the fingers lifting it, his thumb glancing at her nipple. “But you look _spectacular_ tonight.”  


Phasma stares, demanding the truth from him. Needing to know he really thinks that, but he’s running the backs of his knuckles down her belly, slinking the silk over her skin. He’s entranced, his lips parted and his eyes dark, and she feels the answering gush between her legs.

His hand moves from her belly to her sweatpants, which - okay now she can concede maybe wearing unsexy overclothes was a bad idea - but the contrast between functional and form is… delicious, now. His fingers tease over the front panel of her knickers, and she feels her breath catch when the gusset is pushed aside, and his digits dip below to touch her sex.

He definitely likes it. _She_ definitely likes it. Her arms around his neck, she kisses his jaw as he plays her lips and clit like a goddamn instrument, plucking her sighs and moans from her, letting the chemise drag over her very pert nipples when he moves more fiercely.

Oh good. Maybe she is girly enough, after all.


End file.
